Oh, the Adventures!
by Canadianjudy
Summary: Just a little Chelsie\Sybbie fluff to brighten your day. Charles heads to the Abbey to pick up his beloved wife and enjoy the afternoon with her. The best laid plans, in this case, lead to other plans! But all's well that ends well.


Oh, the Adventures!

Charles Carson had both good days and bad, physically and emotionally speaking.

Physically, tremors had forced his hand, so to speak, into retirement. While a bit unsure of this 'not working' scenario, if he was truthful, he would have to admit that the lessening of both his workload and the stress that it entailed had proven to be a good thing in terms of his health.

Emotionally, he wasn't entirely convinced this new lifestyle was for the best. He missed his Elsie something terrible during the day and looked forward to her half days and, even better, her full days off. He knew that retirement for her was not in the too distant future, yet they had agreed that that decision would be hers to make.

Some of the days without her seemed to pass quickly and others seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. He had worked into a fairly regular schedule; certain days he walked into the village and took care of all and sundry needs for the both of them, whether it be a trip for groceries, to the post office or who knows where. He learned the hard way, not long into his retirement, that he would rather spend HIS time taking care of the household necessities than have Elsie be concerned about them. That way, he could be sure of them being able to spend all of her time off together. Certainly, they ventured into town to have dinner together on occasion or to purchase Elsie's necessities, but otherwise, he took on that charge and, with a bit of practice, seemed to do it quite well.

He made sure to leave himself time to read, nap a little and work in his ever-flourishing garden but he had learned the hard way that his time was better invested in the care of household duties and the things that needed to be done around the cottage. Better left to him and not to his beautiful wife, who always arrived home delighted to see her beloved, but exhausted after her day's work up at the 'big' house.

Charles looked forward particularly to Elsie's half days, days where he tidied the house quickly in the morning, gathered flowers from the garden for their table and then set off to meet his wife and walk her home. Today was such a day and so after he had cleaned up, washed up and tidied up, he left for the Abbey with a smile on his face and a definite spring in his step. Oh, the plans he had for today!

He arrived at the back door of the Abbey (still not convinced that, as a guest, he was always welcome to knock at the front door) and stepped into the hallway. He did give the door a cursory knock, but didn't wait for it to be opened. He also didn't bother to hang up his coat; he was here to pick up his wife and head right back out into the gloriously sunny and wonderful day.

Hmmm….it did seem awfully quiet. True, with the reduction in staff, there was never the hustle and bustle of times past. A few staff just did not create quite the commotion that a full compliment of workers did a few years ago. Given that Mrs. Patmore and Daisy got along so much better than previously, there was not even the bellowing and yelling of the cook as she went about her tasks. So much quiet.

"Hello?...Hello? Is anyone here?", he queried.

"Oh, Mr. Carson! Right in here! I'll be 'round in a moment.", called Mrs. Patmore. She was down the hall, close to the boot room, fetching more towels. She'd used her daily supply up already because she'd been, in her eyes, careless and dropped a bowl of cake batter. All over the floor. And lots of it, enough to make three separate birthday cakes for His Lordship tomorrow.

Hearing the deep, booming voice cheered the cook, though. It had been 'one of those' days and the cake batter all over the floor and splashed up the side of the work table didn't help matters in the least.

Mr. Carson and Mrs. Patmore met, coming from different ends of the hall, back in the kitchen. "Oh, my…", was all the former butler got out before the cook glared at him. "YES, I'm bloody well aware of the mess. Either pitch in or close your mouth!", she said.

"Well, I…er…I…", Charles stammered out.

"Yes, I'm sure you're looking for your wife. Well, she's upstairs and I don't know that she's any too happy about it. It's been a day, I tell you. A day."

Charles thought it best that, for all concerned, he just leave the cook to her business and venture upstairs.

"Thank you, Mrs. Patmore. I'll go see what today's been all about. I wish you…well, I wish you… I suppose I wish you enough towels to get through that. You've got quite a mess there." Charles couldn't escape the kitchen fast enough.

He noticed it was rather quiet as he ascended the stairs and made his way into the family's quarters. All the rooms he walked by seemed to have no activity. It wasn't until he rounded the corner that he heard his beloved's voice. That precious voice. He heard her intermittently humming a lullaby and talking quietly to Miss Sybbie.

He approached stealthily, knowing that his wife would know him even by his footfalls. He stood just outside the doorway to the nursery and watched his Elsie rocking Master George while chatting with Miss Sybbie, who was 'reading' a story to her Nana Carson.

Charles was taken back for a moment to a conversation that Tom Branson had had with both him and Elsie soon after they were married and set up house in a cottage close by, on the estate. Having returned from America to stay for good, he had asked them if, in private settings, they would do him (and the memory of Sybil) the honor of being surrogate grandparents to Sybbie. Certainly, Sybbie had Donk and Granny Cora, but since she had taken such a liking to the Carsons, would they consider that, he had asked of them. Charles remembered being so honored. He remembered holding Elsie as Mr. Branson's request had brought her to tears.

And so here he stood mesmerized, wanting to greet her and sweep her away on her half day, but all the while wanting to absorb every precious moment of this scene. He peeked around the doorframe, not wanting to startle her but wanting to let her know that he was here to collect her and begin their half day together.

She smiled at him, a bit of a mix between an 'I'm SO glad to see you' smile and a 'well, today's not gone quite how I planned' smile. He stepped into the room quietly so as to not disturb Master George, who was sleeping in Elsie's arms. The wee lad coughed a bit and fussed, but then settled back to sleep.

Elsie opened her mouth to speak to her husband, but Miss Sybbie interrupted with, "Oh, Papa Carson! George is sick. He's not at all well."

Carson looked to his wife, then to Master George and then to Miss Sybbie. He wasn't sure how to feel. Happy to see his wife, sad that little George was ill or absolutely beside himself with joy that Miss Sybbie had just addressed him as Papa Carson. He went with the latter, as his heart about burst with happiness.

"What's this, Miss Sybbie?", he asked. "Master George is ill?"

Elsie explained that, yes, he had taken with a fever earlier that morning and Nanny had been taken ill as well. No one was sure who had given whom the virus, but both would be down for a few days. Nanny was resting in the adjoining room and George's and Sybbie's care had been shared by a few during the day. Lady Grantham had taken an earlier shift, but she had left for a hospital meeting. Tom had been in for awhile, but both he and Lady Mary had an appointment to keep regarding estate business. Donk didn't think he had it in him to be the sole person in charge of two such treasures, so the remaining help had come from downstairs. Daisy had stayed upstairs with the two for a short while and had just now headed to her room for a bit before joining Mrs. Patmore in the kitchen to continue preparations for the evening's dinner.

Well, that explains the quiet downstairs, Charles thought.

And, Elsie continued, Mrs. Patmore had been excused from childcare duty as long as she agreed to be the one to hold down the fort downstairs.

"I'm sorry, Charles, but I agreed to be here for a couple more hours, until Lady Mary and Mr. Branson return from their meeting regarding some estate business." Elsie saw the look of disappointment on Charles' face and completely understood. She had been looking forward to today being her half-day as well but continued, saying, "Her Ladyship offered to turn my half day today into a full day tomorrow if I agreed to remain and care for the children until Lady Mary and Mr. Branson return."

They both smiled, knowing that it would be more than a fair trade off. She was remaining only two or so more hours into her day in exchange for an entire day off tomorrow, an entire day that she could spend with her man.

"Well, then", he said, "I shall just have to find something to fill my time for the next two hours or so. I'm not sure it would be worthwhile to walk home and then back again." He paused, as if to be pondering his options. How could he fill his time here at the Abbey? It wasn't as though he could not think of anything; it was a matter of which seemed most gratifying. He could wander around, chat with Mrs. Patmore, visit the wine cellar, walk the grounds; there were all manner of things to consider.

"Oh, Papa Carson, I know what you could do! We could do it together!" Sybbie was hopping from one foot to the other, beside herself with excitement.

Charles glanced at Elsie and both suppressed a grin. She knew he would bend to most any of Miss Sybbie's desires and, truth be told, he knew he would, as well.

"And what might that be, Miss Sybbie?", he asked of her.

"Well, Auntie Mary said that she hoped I didn't catch George's sickness. She said that when people are together and one is sick, sometimes the other one breathes their body germs and then they get sick, as well. I think that's what she said. Like Nanny and George. And I don't want George's germs on me. If we take an adventure together then I can leave the nursery for awhile. Maybe George will be better when I get back and then I won't have to worry anymore. I won't get sick."

Elsie didn't dare tell the child that Master George would not be well and germ-free within the next couple hours, but she did agree to the 'adventure'. She looked up at her husband and he had just the biggest and sweetest of smiles on his face. Underneath that tough façade lay the giantest of soft spots for this young lady. Miss Sybbie reminded him so much of her mother when she was a child. Lady Sybil had loved her 'adventures with Carson', as well. While he was certain that this adventurous spirit could not necessarily be chalked up to genetics, he took great amusement and felt great love in knowing that his cohort in crime from years past was standing there again, right before his eyes. Same hair, same grin, same gestures and mannerisms. He knew how easily Mr. Branson was reminded of his wife every time he looked at his young daughter.

"Well, then, I believe an adventure is in order, Miss Sybbie.", said Charles. "Can you spare us for awhile, my dear?", he asked of his wife. "That I can. You two have fun and enjoy yourselves. And be careful. Miss Sybbie, I put you in charge of Papa Carson. Make sure he stays out of trouble, will you?", said Elsie.

"Oh, Nana Carson, I surely will. I will make sure he behaves himself, as well. We will be careful and we will have SO much fun, won't we, Papa Carson?", exclaimed Sybbie.

And with that, Sybbie blew a kiss goodbye to Elsie and grabbed onto Charles' hand. He blew his dear wife a kiss, as well, and then the two turned to head along the corridor, down the stairs and out the door to begin their great adventure.

"Papa Carson, do you know where that little bridge is, the one that goes over the water? I think it's down through the garden and then around past all the trees. If you do, could we walk there? I've walked there before with my papa and I don't think it was very far." Sybbie was enjoying the casual stroll the two had started out on, but Charles sensed she had a definite destination in mind for this 'adventure'.

"I DO know just where that bridge is, Miss Sybbie. I've walked over it many times. It's such a beautiful spot, with all the trees and flowers growing by the stream. Nana Carson and I walk by there and across it on occasion. Is that where you'd like our adventure to take us?"

"Yes, please! Before papa and I left to America, we would go over it sometimes. The last time we went over it, we played a fun game with sticks. Could we try that? Could we play that game? Do you know how to play it? Have you ever played it before? Did you show Nana Carson how to play the game?"

"Whoa, Miss Sybbie, slow down", said Charles. "Of course we can try it, but you'll have to show me what to do. I do know where the bridge is, but I've never played a stick game. And neither has Nana Carson."

The two were quite the sight as they made their way through the garden and around the grove of trees and over to the bridge. Sybbie had begged Charles to skip with her, but he begged out and allowed her to skip on ahead. Whenever he called out 'sticks!', Sybbie had to stop and wait for him to catch up. On and on they went like this, her skipping and him calling out 'sticks' whenever he felt she was getting too far ahead of him.

They were soon at the bridge and Sybbie ran ahead, stopping in the middle and gesturing with all her might for her Papa Carson to hurry and catch up. Just as he approached the bridge, she hurried over to him, telling him that they needed to find five small sticks each in order to play the Sticks game.

The both of them bent over, collecting sticks. Charles pretended he wasn't quite sure about it all and so would ask for Sybbie's approval of his sticks. Yes, she would say. No, she said, regarding one of his choices. She told him it was too short while another was deemed too long. Finally, the both of them had five good sticks each and headed back to the middle of the bridge.

"Alright, Papa Carson – here's how you play. We both drop one of our sticks into the water from this side of the bridge and then run really fast to the other side and look to see whose stick floats out first on the other side." When I did it with Papa, he held me up to drop the stick and then carried me over to see them come out on the other side. I'm bigger than before I went to America, but I think you might still have to lift me up. I want to be able to see really well. Could you hold me up?"

Could he hold her up, he thought. It would be his pleasure. If there was one thing he never tired of, it was holding the wee ones. And even she was still small enough to be held.

In answer to her question, he reminded her that he had held her a number of times when she was younger but, yes, even though she was bigger now, he still was strong enough for the task.

And so the game went on, the two of them dropping sticks, running to the other side and exclaiming either victory or defeat (in between laughs and cheers) when their sticks appeared out from under the bridge on the other side.

It didn't take long to go through their five sticks each, and so the young girl convinced Charles to gather more sticks and go another round. In all, they each dropped ten sticks in.

Charles was certain they would both sleep well tonight; Miss Sybbie from skipping to and from the bridge and he from hoisting her up and running back and forth from one side of the bridge to the other.

"Well, my love…it is time we head back, I do believe.", said Charles. "Nana Carson will be ready to head home and your papa will be back with Auntie Mary and be wondering just where you are."

"Oh, Papa Carson, wasn't this the BEST adventure ever?", asked Sybbie. "I'm sorry that George couldn't come, but I hope he's well now. Nana Carson is such the best singer and she's so nice to sit with; I'm sure George is feeling much better."

Well, Charles certainly couldn't argue with the 'so nice to sit with' part. He did remind her, though, that Master George would probably still be feeling poorly. He might not feel entirely himself for a few days, yet.

And so along they went, Miss Sybbie and her Papa Carson, heading back hand in hand. The view of the bridge grew more distant behind them and the grove of trees was just ahead of them as they walked on. He would have been content to ponder in silence what had just gone on between the two of them, but Sybbie was her talkative self, as usual. She insisted on showing Charles how to walk alongside her while swinging their arms together, hands clasped (because, of course, Charles claimed he had never heard of any such thing before). He noticed that he barely had to move his arm at all in comparison to Sybbie's arm, which flew up past her shoulder with each swing. He smiled as she chattered away.

"Do you remember when Papa and I went away to America?", she asked Charles. "Papa asked me on that bridge while we were playing the sticks game if I wanted to go far away to America."

"Yes, Miss Sybbie, I do remember. Nana Carson and I were so excited for you to head off on a new adventure, but we were sad, as well. We would miss you so very much, that much we knew for certain."

"Some of our time in America was nice.", she said. "There were so many different places. And so many motorcars. But I didn't like where we stayed and I missed George so much. And Donk. I missed Donk. And Granny Cora. And I missed you, as well. I would pretend and try to remember how you sounded. I missed your words. And how the kitchen smelled. Mrs. Patmore always made the kitchen smell so wonderful. Did you know that Nana Carson sent me a letter once? She said that she missed my papa and me terribly. She told me that you and she were getting married and she wished I could be there to see it."

Charles could barely contain himself. He loved this girl with all his heart and, over time, had come to more than just an understanding with her father. He shuddered to think what his first opinions were of the man, and was so thankful that they had both grown to a point of mutual respect and admiration. Tom Branson had proven himself over and over again and Charles and Elsie had discussed together what a hole these two people leaving would create at the Abbey. To hear Miss Sybbie's version of leaving, in her words, truly touched him. He knew that he and she had shared some good times and made a few memories but had no inkling that he and Elsie held such a tender spot in this young lady's heart.

"Well, my love, Nana Carson and I were so very sad that you left. We had hoped you would come back to visit one day, when you were older. We had no idea that your papa would decide to return so soon. I'm sure you were very excited when he shared the decision with you that you would both be heading back across the ocean." Charles looked down at her as he spoke and she looked up at him as they exchanged smiles.

"Oh, Papa Carson!" she exclaimed, "Didn't we get back to America just in time?!" Papa was worried when we arrived home and no one was there but I wish you could have seen the smile on his face when the boy who answered the door said where everyone was and why no one was home. He cheered, Papa Carson. He was so excited. He swung me up in his arms. Do you know how strong he is? He was running while he was holding me. And he didn't even drop me! Oh, he was just so, so happy!

Miss Sybbie's use of the word 'home' did not escape Charles' attention. For him, it just added to the sweetness of her account of that day. He knew that he would have quite the tale to tell his wife later that evening. She had been practically beside herself with joy seeing Mr. Branson and his daughter slip into the wedding reception. Not that anything could top the thrill of that day, but seeing them just added joy upon joy. Elsie had been beyond ecstatic and thankful that Tom Branson had not only decided to return from America, but to settle back in at the Abbey. Charles knew that his wife would treasure his stories about today's adventure and tuck them away in her heart.

As the two crossed the large front lawn, Sybbie called out to her father; he and Lady Mary were just pulling up in the motorcar. Perfect timing! Sybbie could not get her words out fast enough. Her father laughed and remarked that he imagined he would have quite the story to listen to later.

Charles asked permission to escort 'his' Miss Sybbie back up to the nursery. He knew that Elsie would still be upstairs, awaiting their return. Though anxious to leave with his beautiful wife, he knew that they would be held up for just a wee bit longer as Miss Sybbie told her tales of their adventure to her Nana Carson.

Indeed, Elsie could barely keep up with the sheer excitement tumbling out of the little girl as she was regaled with a detailed description of their outing. Master George was asleep and so as Elsie rose to head out with Charles, she turned to the bureau to pick up a button she had placed there for safekeeping. It had come loose from her cuff and she had unwound the last of the thread and removed it, rather than losing it somewhere later.

She handed it to Charles and asked that he place it in his pocket for safekeeping until it could be sewn back on later, at the cottage. As he dropped it safely into the bottom of his coat pocket, he felt something else. Much to his surprise, but not Miss Sybbie's, he pulled out a stick, a stick much like the ones they had dropped off the bridge.

He looked quizzically at the young girl with the big grin on her face. "It's for later, Papa Carson!", she exclaimed. "It's to remind you that we should have another adventure soon. Every time you see the stick, you will think of our day today and how very much fun it was!"

Well, Charles knew he wouldn't need a stick to bring to mind the memories of today's adventure, but he agreed with Miss Sybbie. "Yes, my dear, I WILL remember today's fun every time I look at this stick. Perhaps we shall have to plan another adventure soon, though, so we may put this stick to good use."

"No, you keep that as a bremembrance of today. There will be lots of sticks by the bridge for us to use next time. Maybe even Nana Carson could come. I know there would be enough sticks for her, as well." Charles smiled to himself as he remembered the use of the word "bremembrance" in a previous conversation with a certain wee lass.

Out in the corridor, Tom Branson just stood there. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. He did know, however, how very grateful he was for the friendship of these two dear souls. And how thankful he was that he made the decision to return to the Abbey, to his home. Sybil would be just as pleased, he was sure of it.

When Tom entered the nursery, and the Carsons prepared to leave, there were smiles and hugs and thanks all around, as well as a few promises of future 'adventures'.

And for the very longest of times, a little stick sat right next to the framed picture of Tom and Sybil Branson, a picture that held a very special spot on the Carson's fireplace mantle.

And for the very longest of times, Papa Carson smiled every time he laid eyes on it.


End file.
